Soulfire 03 - Hold Me if You Can by Stephanie Rowe

Author:Stephanie Rowe [Rowe, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Paranormal, Fiction, Romance, General
ISBN: 9781402273209
Google: 4ovod80-3pEC
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2012-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Nigel kissed Natalie again, and this time, it wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t nurturing. It was the kiss of a man who had just learned what it was like to feel like a man, who had the woman who’d validated him in his arms.

He gave of his passion, he took of her vulnerability, he took of her soul and gave his own, he wrapped his being around hers and gave her his protection.

He cupped her breasts, he palmed her hips, and he groaned when she kissed him back. When she moved against him. When she began to stop fighting her own desires and give into his, into hers, into the heat driving them both.

The kiss turned frantic. Carnal. Deep. Hot. Wet. Until there was nothing between them but the need for more, for skin, for intimacy, for passion. He had no idea how much time had passed, or how long he’d kissed her, but he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t break away from the connection. He cupped the front of her jeans, thumbed over her sensitive parts. She shuddered, and he caught her in his arms. “I’ve got you, babe. You can let it go. You’re safe with me.”

She opened her eyes, her lids heavy with passion and heat. “Nigel,” she whispered. “You don’t need your art. You’re in complete control of your weapons and your mind. You feel powerful. You feel mentally calm. You are focused, and it is easy to be so. You are all you strive to be.”

The words plunged into his chest like blades, they hit his brain like hot wind, and they raced through his body like electric shock rippling and rippling and rippling. His muscles went rigid, and for a moment he couldn’t move. All he could do was feel her words shooting through him, eviscerating his own thoughts, his own needs, his own identity.

He tried to stop it, he tried to resist the flood, but it was relentless, streaking through him. He saw art in his head, pictures he’d drawn. They were falling off the walls, burning up in white-hot flames. He envisioned the blades in his own body shriveling up. He felt the metal disappearing from his own flesh, felt the coolness of the metal vanish, replaced by burning heat, by fire.

“Stop!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Make it stop!”

She caught his face and held tight, her expression confident and calm. “Let it in, Nigel. It hurts only because you have resistance. It’s what you want. You asked for it. Stop fighting.”

But he couldn’t. He could feel her words stripping away at his own mind, at his own emotions, trying to inject themselves over his. He didn’t want to lose who he was. Didn’t want to put himself in someone else’s hands. “No!” He shoved her off his lap and stumbled out of the car onto the embankment.

“Nigel!”

He heard her voice, a female voice, and he swore. A blade came out and he spun around. Ready to attack. To protect himself.

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